My Name Is
by The Dark Crimson Blood
Summary: Luffy's relationships fall to ruin when he can't even remember his own name. AU. Oneshot


**Story Title** _ **: My name is...**_ **  
Author** : The Dark Crimson Blood _  
_ **Genres:** Family/Hurt comfort/Angst **  
Main Character(s):** Luffy, Ace, Sabo, Shanks  
 **Summary:** Luffy's relationships fall to ruin when he can't even remember his own name. AU  
 **Words** : 1,131

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"My name is…"

He doesn't quite understand what they were trying to get out of him. He couldn't really remember their faces in their first place; they're just people who come and go and do things he doesn't quite understand.

They all dressed the same. Wearing white cloaks that matched the walls and the floors and everything else in the room. He wonders what it's like outside. The window's closed, and he's not allowed to leave the bed.

'Restrained so you can't hurt yourself.' They say.

He doesn't believe them.

They're the ones hurting him. The pointy sharp things they prick him with, the cold metal objects they poke him with, and the medicine they give him. There are all sorts of wires and tubes and machines hooked up to him; he doesn't understand what they're for.

He doesn't understand why he's here.

He doesn't even know who he is.

Anyway.

Besides the strange people in white clothing, he gets a lot of visitors.

His last visitor was easy to remember. He had bright red hair and read tales of pirates and fun journeys; they were fun to listen to, and sometimes this man would go on and on until he fell asleep. This man brought a straw hat in, he left beside the bed and he hasn't let go of it since.

He remembers a teenager with really curly blond hair, who had given him a reassuring smile and a hug that he just couldn't refuse. The blond showed him pictures of the world; landscapes and exciting places, and he had played games together until it was time to leave.

There have been plenty other visitors too, but the last person he remembers is a boy with black hair and obsidian eyes. His face was covered in freckles, he had a mean look in his eyes; but he just knew that he could be trusted. There was a kind vibe that he just had to latch onto.

This boy would come last, just an hour or two away from the time when people who weren't wearing white clothing weren't allowed to enter anymore. This boy would just stare at him sometimes; his arms would be crossed and his eyes would be narrowed, he never seemed happy.

Other times he would bring food that he always loved to eat, he'd play the silliest games, and sometimes just the silence was enough.

The thing is, he doesn't _know_ them.

The most he can do is recognize their faces as they smile at him, bring him sweets, and obsess over him in ways he feels unfamiliar with.

It's nice.

It's like sunshine and rainbows. He cracks a smile and maybe a few giggles, at least, until they start asking questions.

"What's your name?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Do you remember anything?"

"Do you recognize this?"

"How are you feeling?"

All he wants to do is put his hands over his head and scream.

So he does.

He covers his ears, ducks his head, and scream and cries.

It made his head hurt so much that it felt like it would explode at any given moment.

So he shuts them out again.

When the redhead comes by, he doesn't smile and ask to be read another story.

When the blond boy visits, he rejects any and all contact that he was slowly becoming familiar with.

When the boy with freckles visits, he sits with his back towards him.

"Why won't you talk to us?"

"Please don't ignore me."

"Did I do something wrong?"

Sooner or later, they stop visiting.

He spends his days alone, in a hospital bed, just staring at the wall with a gaze so dull it scares the people in white clothing.

The doctors still pick and prod at him.

The whisper so loudly that he doubts they're trying to hide anything from him anymore. He blinks. It's morning. He blinks again. It's afternoon. He blinks again. It's nighttime.

The people in white still think that there's something wrong with him. He's been here for so long that he knows that whatever's wrong with him should be fixed already. He's perfectly healthy! They've even removed his restraints-

He pauses.

They've removed his restraints.

His arms are weak and frail and shaky, but he manages to properly remove the mask they put on his face. It's harder to breathe, but he knows he can make it. The chords and things that had been attached to him were removed too, and suddenly he feels freer than he's been in a long long time.

It's hard to walk.

His legs shake with each tiny step.

He's not feeling any pain, but that's probably because of the weird tasting stuff the doctor's gave to him earlier.

He heads for the window. The curtains open, and he gets a breath of fresh air that relaxes him more than anything else ever has. The sun was beautiful, the sky was bright, and the birds flew freely.

Surly, he'd be like them one day. Outside of this white prison.

Maybe that day was today.

He puts his hands on the ledge to lift himself up, but he stumbles and falls. His head hits the wall and then he continues to fall to the ground.

There's a stick red substance falling from his head, but there's a puddle of it slowly surrounding him. The stitches that had held a rather large 'X' shaped wound on his chest came undone; he's never seen so much blood before in his life.

Not even when he got the scar underneath his left eye-

He's remembering.

He tries to stand, but he slips in the bloody mess.

It's everywhere. The boy is fairly certain he'll die.

Die and never thank the red head- Shanks for his hat.

Die and never get another hug from the blond- his brother, Sabo.

Die never play another game with the freckled boy- his other brother, Ace.

He wants to apologize.

He cries.

"What's your name?" A bodiless voice questions him.

"Luffy…!"

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 **A/N: This has been on my mind for awhile. Whether Luffy died in the end or not is for you to decide.**

 **REVIEW! Let me know what you think :)**

 **~Crimsy**


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